


Wolfbrothers

by mific



Category: due South
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Digital Art, Fanart, Fanfiction, Illustrations, M/M, Mutual Pining, Psychic Wolves, Traditional Media, Trolls, Wolves, discussion of Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:54:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27553405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mific/pseuds/mific
Summary: Fraser, Dief, and Ray travel to the icy north on the trail of a stolen artifact and a killer. But as they track the villain to his lair they find that not all of the old myths have been laid to rest, and Ray faces a change that will fundamentally alter his relationship with Fraser.
Relationships: Benton Fraser/Ray Kowalski
Comments: 11
Kudos: 36
Collections: Psychic Wolves for Lupercalia, due South/C6D Big Bang 2020





	Wolfbrothers

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fusion with the world of 'A Companion to Wolves' by Elizabeth Bear and Sarah Monette. In this 'verse, warriors are soulbonded to psychic wolves, and communicate with them telepathically as they defend the populace against trolls and wyverns. The original novels are in a fantasy medieval-nordic setting, and I've updated that to the modern-day due South world of Chicago, Canada, and the RCMP. The fic is self-explanatory, but if you're interested in more details, see [Fanlore](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Psychic_Wolves_for_Lupercalia) and [here](https://www.amazon.com/Companion-Wolves-Iskryne-Elizabeth-Bear/dp/076535778X).  
> Big thanks to wicked3659 for the beta!  
> The art was done with acrylic inks and fineliners and finished digitally, in grayscale with limited pops of colour.  
> Note: the "soulbonded to psychic wolves" trope inherently involves dubious consent, in much the same way as with Pern Dragonrider AUs. I haven't warned for that here, as the dubcon aspect is discussed but not played out, in this story.

[ ](https://www.mediafire.com/convkey/000f/5w84pqusswp3l4dzg.jpg)

* * *

"I don't get why I can't be a wolfsister, y'know?" Frannie heaved a sigh, knowing she was pouting a little, but it was just her and Elaine in the women's bathroom. She checked her hair in the mirror then leaned against a basin and crossed her arms. "It's not fair."

"Really?" Elaine shot her a look and reached for a paper towel to dry her hands. "You want to be part of that homoerotic bullshit the Mounties got going?" She crumpled the towel into a ball and threw it into the trash, then gestured towards the hallway outside. "The usual macho posturing of goons like Dewey isn't enough for you in this patriarchal set-up, with all its institutionalized sexism?"

"Fraser's erotic for sure," Frannie said dreamily, picturing him in the red uniform, her favorite. "And it ain't right, Dief having to make do with, like, poodles, or whatever, let alone Fraser not having someone he's bonded to."

Elaine snorted. "If you think Fraser's not bonded, you haven't been paying attention."

Frannie waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, not to _Dief_. I know they got that mind-reading telephony thing going on. It's just a waste, y'know? Fraser needs a good woman to care for him, and if I was a wolf's sister, he'd have to take me seriously."

"Yeah, well, that's not a team they let women join," Elaine said, sounding grim. "Quit banging your head on a brick wall. The police service's tough enough to crack, let alone some weird ancient boy's club that goes back to the Vikings." She gave Frannie a little push, turning her towards the door. "C'mon, we gotta go through the files on that embezzling case again. There must be something we missed."

Frannie let herself be chivvied out the door, pouting for real now. "Accountants, sheesh. I just got the latest paperback in the _Troll Who Loved Me_ series. It's even better than _Way of the Wyvern."_

"Jeez, Frannie," Elaine said, as they headed back to her desk. "Don't let the Lieu catch you with those trashy wolfbrother romances when you're on the clock. Or Fraser either, for that matter. You know what he's like."

Frannie pulled a face then mimicked Fraser at his most disapproving. "Quite apart from the inherent impossibility of romantic tales involving no longer extant creatures, Francesca, wyverns were dangerous predators, and trolls, despite their sentience, were unfortunately hunted to extinction due to medieval bigotry."

Elaine laughed. "Man, you've got him down cold. Guess you took that lecture to heart."

Frannie waved her hands, frustrated. "Those books're just a bit of fun, but no, Fraser's gotta take the whole thing super serious, like it's a personal insult to Mountie tradition!"

"Yeah, well some of those traditions are weird, girl, so forget about it and let's hit those ledgers."

Frannie huffed out an annoyed breath and plonked herself down, pulling over a stack of photocopied pages. "I bet Dief'd rather be fighting wyverns," she muttered rebelliously. "Or romancing a nice ladywolf."

"Yeah, yeah, dream on," Elaine said. "Ain't gonna happen."

* * *

"Elaine, Francesca," Fraser said, nodding.

Ray snorted to himself as Frannie looked up and waved, happy to be distracted from the stacks of paper covering Elaine's desk. Embezzling jobs were the worst; Ray hated having to wear his glasses in the precinct and the columns of tiny figures gave him a headache.

"Is Lieutenant Welsh available, do you know?"

Elaine turned from where she'd been patting Dief who was sneakily checking her pockets for cookies. She glanced towards the Lieu's office. "Yeah, he just got free from an FBI liaison meeting."

Fraser frowned. "Ah."

"Crap," Ray said. "He's always super pissed after wrangling those FBI assholes."

Fraser sighed. "Interdepartmental relations are crucial, Ray, but yes, taxing at times." He considered a moment. "Well, we can but try—the situation's urgent."

"What situation?" Frannie asked. Ray could sympathize—he'd have grabbed any excuse to ditch the paperwork, too. "That thing at the museum Huey and Dewey got called out to as back-up? What gives?"

"Homicide," Ray said. "The perp knifed a museum guard and filched some old artifact. Huey and Dewey are still there, handling the scene of crime stuff."

"Did you–?" Frannie started to ask.

Ray cut her off, annoyed. "No, we didn't catch him; he's still out there." He tilted his chin at the Lieu's office. "It's why we gotta go see the big guy."

"Not just 'some old artifact', Ray," Fraser said quietly. "A priceless cultural relic of the Inuvialuit people—a carved troll made from wyvern bone."

"Yeah, right," Ray agreed tiredly, pushing himself up off the desk he'd been perched on. He hated it when the bad guys got away. He could still see the guard lying there in a pool of congealing blood. He'd been young, had a wife and a small kid from what the museum director had told them, pale under her make-up. "C'mon, Frase, let's get it over with."

"Indeed, Ray," Fraser said, following along with Dief.

"Good luck," Frannie called after them, and Ray flopped a hand at her.

The Lieu, as expected, was not thrilled to see them. "How come the jerk got clean away?" he demanded, leaning forward over his desk and glaring. Huey had probably phoned in an update on the case.

"I'm not sure if you're familiar with the Field Museum's layout, sir?" Fraser was treading real careful-like, Ray could see. They'd grabbed chairs and sat down as soon as they could, trying to make themselves smaller targets. Fraser had removed his hat and was holding it in his lap, and even Dief was behaving, sitting quietly beside Fraser instead of nosing in Welsh's wastebasket for lunch leftovers. Ray figured Fraser'd told him to lie low, through their bond.

Welsh's frown deepened. "Not since a school trip in grade four, and believe me, Constable, you don't wanna know how long ago that was."

"Quite so, sir," Fraser said hastily. "Well, it's something of a maze in the staff areas behind the scenes. And most of the security guards are in the public areas. We think the perpetrator made his way to a freight entrance and escaped from there."

Welsh jerked a thumb at the phone on his desk. "Yeah, and I already had the chairman of the Museum Board yammering on about public safety and lost revenue." He looked over at Ray. "So, what's the plan, Detective? Because I sure as hell hope you got one, or this is gonna be a PR nightmare."

"Actually, sir," Fraser put in again, looking apologetic, "we believe we'll need to travel north to apprehend the suspect. On the way back here as we were driving, I received a message from the Consulate, relayed through the police band. It was from Aklavik."

"Ain't that some kind of disgusting yellow booze?" the Lieu asked, puzzled.

Fraser looked taken aback for a moment, then his face cleared. "Ah, no, sir, I believe you're thinking of Advocaat, a liqueur. Aklavik is a small settlement in the Northwestern Territories, in Canada."

The Lieu's eyebrows rose. "Another Canadian bad guy? You gotta stop attracting them, Constable. It's bad for cross-border relations."

"Believe me, sir, it's not intentional," Fraser said earnestly, his face all innocent looking. Ray suppressed a grin; Fraser was really working it.

"Okay, okay. So, what's this Aquavit place got to do with it?"

"Yes, Aklavik. The message was from a young constable at the RCMP detachment there. It's a tiny place; they only have one officer. It was to warn us about a local troublemaker, Jimmy Vazaagiitsak. Apparently, he drank too much a couple of nights ago and bragged about his plan for the theft. He's an activist from the Gwichʼin people, who also live in the region."

Welsh's expression sharpened. "A terrorist?"

Fraser raised a deflecting hand. "No, no, sir, I wouldn't go so far as to call him... well, there is some politics involved. You see, the Gwichʼin—a northern indigenous people—and the Inuvialuit—or Inuit—both lay claim to lands around Aklavik, and the Inuvialuit are unhappy that an energy company is trying to push through a contract with the Gwichʼin for drilling rights on the land, which is a seasonal calving ground for caribou—"

"Yeah, whatever," Welsh said, impatient. Ray figured he was mostly keen to make sure he didn't need to call those FBI bozos back to deal with it. "But what's that got to do with the museum here? Why'd the suspect steal that thing?"

Fraser frowned, his tongue slipping out to moisten his lower lip, and Ray had to look away. "My supposition is that he's taken this valuable relic—an Inuit artifact of great spiritual significance, which incidentally the museum has no moral claim on—so as to essentially hold the Inuvialuit elders to ransom and force through the drilling deal."

"Yeah, so that's why we gotta go up north again, sir," Ray put in. "'cause that's where this Jimmy Vazza, um, Vizig—" He cleared his throat. "That's where this Jimmy character's from, and it's where he'll be headed."

The Lieu looked at him. "You and Fraser?" Dief barked softly and Welsh glanced down at him, "Yeah, and you. You all gotta head off on some endless goddamn trek into the Arctic?"

Fraser grimaced. "Well, strictly speaking, Aklavik's in the Arctic _circle_ in terms of being north of 66°33′, but it's not quite in the Arctic _region_ , as defined by temperatures that never rise above 10° Centigrade annually at any poin—"

"To the _Arctic_ ," snarled Welsh, his face flushed. "Which means you'll both be away–" Dief barked again, sharper this time, and Welsh threw up his hands, "–that _all three of you_ will be away for who knows _how_ many weeks. I got a precinct to run here."

Ray spread his hands. "Yeah, but what can we do? It's a homicide, and he's our only suspect. We gotta track him down and bring him back." He winced, knowing for sure the FBI ought to be brought in, with a fugitive crossing not just a state line but the border itself. Welsh would most likely let them do it, though, just to stick it to the Feds. Wait, the border. Ray guessed the stolen artifact wasn't that big, so the perp'd have no trouble getting it past the checkpoint. "Hey, Frase, do we got a description of this Jimmy guy? We better warn the border patrols."

Fraser stood abruptly and put his hat back on. Dief scrambled to his feet, eyes bright, and Ray hoisted himself out of his chair. "We'd better head on over to the Consulate, sir," Fraser said. "I'll need to call the constable at the Aklavik detachment to get that level of detail."

Welsh leaned back in his chair and waved them off resignedly. "Go on, skedaddle, and try not to bust up any more snowmobiles. Those things cost a bomb."

Ray turned back at the door. "I'll, uh, keep you posted, sir," he said, then got while the going was good.

* * *

It took a while to get to this Aklavik place, what with Dief and the fact that US airlines didn't allow psychically bonded wolves to ride in the passenger cabin. "Shockingly discriminatory," Fraser had muttered, and Dief had growled agreement.

They drove north until they hit an airport running on Canadian rules, where the staff were used to Mounties and their wolves. It meant getting an extra seat, which Dief curled right up in so as to snore his way all through the flight to Yellowknife, waking only to snaffle the muffins off their dinner trays. He got the window seat, of course.

After the meal, Fraser lay back, tipped his hat over his eyes, and dozed, but Ray found himself thinking about the whole wolfbrother thing. After working alongside Fraser for a while he was used to it, right? But they were headed up to the far north where that shit wasn't just some quaint old tradition like Ray figured the Lieu saw it, or something out of a romance novel like Frannie mooned over. There really _had_ been trolls and wyverns up in the arctic. Yeah, maybe not for a thousand years or whatever, but still.

Ray wasn't sure what he felt about it. He wasn't a dick about it like most American cops were—uncomfortable with the mind-reading bond as much as the sex-with-guys stuff. Dewey'd cracked wise a few times when Ray was still new at the 2-7 about how the Mounties should set up a gay bar and how they all liked doing it doggy-style, until Ray'd dragged him out into an alley beside the cop bar they were all in, and socked him. Fraser'd hauled him off while Huey dragged Dewey away, and Dewey'd mostly kept his trap shut around Ray and Fraser after that, but Ray'd caught him sniggering more than once and whispering to Huey, who mostly looked bored.

Still, if Dief had ever mated with a female wolf who was bonded to a brother Mountie... Ray shook his head to dispel the images but he knew it happened; everyone knew. Elaine was right to call it a boy's club. The Ice Queen might run the Consulate in the modern RCMP but she had no wolf, 'cause only dude Mounties bonded with wolves. Mind you, Ray thought, suppressing a grin, the Ice Queen was of a mind with Elaine about the whole thing. _It's one club I'm delighted to be excluded from, Constable,_ she'd told Fraser. _All that slobber, and hair on the furniture_.

Even Turnbull had a wolf and thank fucking Christ it was a boy-wolf, a big shaggy gray beast called Buckingham because _Turnbull_. Buckingham was apparently just as weird as his wolfbrother, or so Dief had told Fraser. Ray shuddered to think of Turnbull being forced to get it on with a brother Mountie 'cause Buckingham had found a lady-wolf in heat. _Hell_ nope, no way Ray was thinking about _that_.

But with how long Fraser'd been bonded to Dief, they must have... Fraser must have... Ray's brain kind of shorted out like it did whenever he let himself think about it. He squirmed in his seat, trying to ease the pressure on his cock which was very damn interested in whether Dief had ever mated with a female wolf, forcing Fraser to mate with the sister's wolfbrother through their bond. Goddamnit, _no_ , he couldn't get a hard-on _now_ , with Fraser and Dief sleeping right there beside him. He put a magazine over his lap and adjusted himself surreptitiously.

"Are you well, Ray? Indigestion?" Fraser had opened one eye and was looking concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Frase. No worries. Just... the seat's hard. Guess my butt's too scraggy or something." For fuck's sake, why was he talking about _butts_? Ray managed to resist banging his head on the seat's headrest in frustration.

Fraser raised an eyebrow. "Yes, there are times when some extra padding helps, and a good layer of subcutaneous fat can be crucial for arctic survival."

Ray slumped further down in his seat, strategic magazine in place, trying not to turn bright red and _especially_ trying not to think about how that nice layer of subcutaneous fat on Fraser's ass might feel if he grabbed it. He grimaced, and shifted again.

Fraser hurried to reassure him. "Not that I was meaning to imply that your own, ah, derrière, is in any way wanting, Ray. It's a very fine example of, of a..."

"An ass?" Ray asked sarcastically, going for broke so's to get Fraser off the damn topic.

Fraser cleared his throat and grinned sheepishly. "So I am. Enough said." He set his hat in his lap and closed his eyes, but Ray didn't think he got any more sleep on the flight. Ray sure as hell didn't.

[ ](https://www.mediafire.com/convkey/298a/ug8nipn81turjzezg.jpg)

* * *

Aklavik was absolutely at the ass-end of nowhere, snow heaped in dirty drifts along the runway and still lying thick on any unplowed stretch of ground. Ray guessed it was one of those places where the ground never unfroze, even in summer, and it was only spring now, no sign of a real thaw yet. The airport terminal was a bunch of tin shacks, not much more than a windbreak for anyone waiting on a plane. Ray huddled into his down jacket, shivering in the brisk wind, hands thrust deep in the pockets.

Fraser greeted an older man emerging from one of the sheds who looked like a local to Ray, and sure enough, they started talking in what had to be Inuit. Fraser gestured at Ray, switching to English again. "And this is my partner, Detective Ray Vecchio."

"Pleased ta meetcha," Ray said, pulling a gloved hand out of his pocket a bit reluctantly to shake the old guy's hand. Man, it was cold, even through sheepskin-lined suede.

"Ray, this is Sam Elanik, a tribal elder of the Inuvialuit people. He's on the town council."

Ray nodded at the guy then elbowed Fraser. "Good thing you grew up in Inuvik so you can speak Inuit, like."

Fraser smiled and smoothed a thumb along his eyebrow, which meant Ray'd made a boo-boo. "Yes, they speak Uummarmiut here, as they do in Inuvik. I'd have been at sea if we were in Northern Quebec where they speak Nunatsiavummiutut."

"Not half so sunk as I'd've been," Ray muttered, sticking his gloved hands in his armpits and trying to blow warm air up at his nose, which just made it cold and wet. He was fed up with standing around outside and not altogether sure his feet were still in the land of the living. "So where's this Mountie who tipped you off, Frase?"

Fraser's face became serious. "Sam says Tiguaak headed out in pursuit of Jimmy Vazaagiitsak after they heard Jimmy had come back to Aklavik. That was yesterday, and he hasn't returned."

Damn. It had taken Ray and Fraser three days to get here after a storm had kept aircraft on the ground in Yellowknife, and meanwhile the dumb kid had charged off, chasing a murderer all by himself. He was probably just as pig-headed as Fraser. "That's not good. We know where he went?"

Fraser gestured at a truck whose rear poked out from the shed's corner and Dief emerged from behind one of its wheels and barked peremptorily at them. "Sam will take us to the RCMP Detachment. It's possible Tiguaak left a note or a map there." He and Sam started walking to the vehicle and Ray found his feet weren't quite frozen solid to the icy ground, so he stumbled after them, arms still wrapped tightly around himself.

It wasn't any warmer in the truck and the trip was so short the heater had no chance to warm up, so Ray was glad there wasn't any hassle with the Mountie base being locked or anything. After Sam dropped them off, Fraser just opened the door and walked right in.

"Not so much crime around these parts, I guess?" Ray commented, following hard on Fraser and Dief's heels and making damn sure the door was shut tight behind him. The stove had gone out, of course, so it was only a little warmer than outside. Ray hadn't been cheered by the Detachment's exterior which was basically a couple of aluminum garages shoved together, but inside it was insulated, so that was something.

Fraser immediately went to the iron stove and began putting kindling in it. "Oh, just the usual for small towns. Drunkenness, fights, altercations about caribou."

"Yeah," Ray said, surveying the room. There was an old couch pulled up near to the stove, he noted approvingly. "Not a lotta fights about caribou in Chicago."

"No indeed, Ray," Fraser said, shutting the door on the stove. Ray could see small flames licking up the stacked wood through the window in the door, thank Christ. Fraser turned around, frowning. "Now, there must be a kettle... ah, there it is!"

With hot coffee inside him, Ray started feeling better. He even took his gloves off. Dief had been given some water and kibble and was curled up on the rug in front of the stove.

Fraser, having grown up in the Arctic, didn't need thawing time like Ray did, so he prowled around searching the base while Ray finished his coffee.

"Find anything?" Ray asked, though he figured Fraser would've told him if he had.

Fraser frowned. "Not so far, in here or the bunkroom. I even checked the bathroom, but I can't see any sign of a map or a note. There must surely be a ledger or logbook of daily callouts and activities. The RCMP requires a paper trail, even in small departments."

"Yeah, that's weird, for sure." One thing police systems loved and cops hated was the universal bane of paperwork.

"I'd better check the garage," Fraser said, pulling his gloves on again. "Stay here, Ray—it'll be cold in there."

"Sure thing, Frase. Yell if you need a hand."

Fraser was gone quite a while. Just when Ray was about to gear up and go find him, the door opened and Fraser, with a blast of icy air, came in. He was holding a hardcover book and other papers, which he brought over to the couch. Ray had been using an old wooden packing case as a coffee table and Fraser sat beside him and set his finds on it.

"You found the logbook?" Ray waved at the hardcover book.

"Yes. It seems the other building does double duty as an office as well as housing vehicles and the dog sled team. It has a stove as well, so I took the time to light that."

"A dog team? They okay? I didn't hear any barking."

"They weren't there. I believe Constable Tiguaak must have taken the sled to chase down Jimmy Vazaagiitsak. I gather the constable's something of a traditionalist."

That meant he was a wolfbrother, Ray figured, what with this place being so far north. Fraser had said it was common in Mounties from the Arctic. Ray poked at the folded paper, which he now saw was a map. "So, any clues?"

Fraser nodded. "Yes, I believe so." He tapped the book. "He recorded the call about Jimmy Vazaagiitsak returning, Jimmy's likely whereabouts, and his own plan to locate and arrest him."

"So where was he headed?"

"That's where it gets a little tricky." Fraser licked his lower lip and Ray tried not to stare too obviously. "He simply noted it as 'the old troll cave', which is of no help to us, as outsiders."

Ray scratched his head. "Troll cave? There really _were_ trolls up here?"

"Oh yes, Ray. The last troll unfortunately died in about 1805, although wyverns were extinct long before that."

"Unfortunately?"

"They were sentient beings, Ray, and most of the aggression towards humans was due to their territorial nature. People were less informed in those days and failed to realize that if left alone, trolls were more than happy to give humans a wide berth. They largely lived underground, anyway. But a trapper or hunter would encroach on their lands and be killed, and that led to a troll hunt. It was the origins of the RCMP, in fact. The Inuit had wolf brotherhoods for centuries and then Europeans were inducted into them, and eventually, those outposts became the northern branches of the RCMP."

Just two hundred years ago? Ray had thought trolls died out way before that. He frowned at Fraser. "So, this troll cave your guy said he was headed for, it's where that last troll used to live?"

"Very probably, if it's remembered locally by that name, but trolls usually had underground warrens, with several exits to the world above."

Ray focused on the main point. "But we don't know where this place is. Can you ask that council guy you were talking to?"

"We could, yes, but I don't believe that will be necessary." Fraser unfolded the map and Ray leaned in. It was one of those detailed topographical things and it took Ray a while to make sense of it.

He stabbed a finger down. "We're here, right?"

"Yes, Ray." Fraser pointed at a place a fair way north of town where the curving lines got close together in that way that meant higher ground, a hill or something. "I believe this is an escarpment, possibly a cliff face. And it appears to be named _Angiyortak Torngark_ , which means 'the biggest devil', or perhaps 'giant devil'."

Ray sat back. "That's gotta be a troll, right?"

Fraser nodded. "I think it's highly likely. There are no other names on the map that could refer to trolls or wyverns."

"Huh. Can you find this devil place using the map?"

"With my compass, yes. And anyway, Dief can follow the trail of the dog sled, and when we get closer, he should be able to contact Tiguaak's wolf."

Yeah, if the kid and his wolf were still alive out there, Ray thought, but didn't say. Fraser knew the score. On the rug, Dief whined unhappily, picking up Fraser's misgivings.

Fraser sighed. "Well, we'll have to see, and the sooner the better as it's close to noon now."

"What time will it get dark, Frase?" Fraser always knew that kind of shit. It was like he had an almanac in his head.

Fraser considered. "We're not far enough north in the Arctic Circle for the midnight sun, not yet. The days at this time of year are around 16 hours long, though, so we'll have many hours of light." He turned to look at Ray, concerned. "But it will be cold, Ray, and you've only just recovered from the journey here. You need hot food and a better parka before we attempt this. Or I could go by myself—"

Ray bristled. "No way, you ain't getting rid of me that easy. Anyway, how're we gonna get there if the dog sled's gone?"

Fraser shrugged. "Constable Tiguaak might prefer the sled, but there's also a snowmobile in the garage, and fuel. We can both ride on that, and Dief will go ahead as a guide."

Okay, so they had a plan. Fraser carefully noted it in the logbook and rummaged in the Detachment's cupboards while Ray heated a couple of cans of chili con carne on the stove. After they'd bolted it down he made Ray put on long woolen underwear and swap his perfectly good nylon and down parka for some smelly old thing made of leather and fur, with fur-lined boots and mittens to match.

"I'm gonna stink to high heaven, Frase!" Ray protested, but Fraser just clapped him on the back.

"Nonsense, Ray, you smell perfectly lovely." Ray shot him a sidelong look, to find Fraser turning away, his ears pink.

Finally, they were off, the snowmobile fueled up and Dief bounding ahead. The day was overcast but clear and they made good time, but it was a rough, juddering ride and bitingly cold. Ray's face was mostly covered in a wool scarf, and Fraser had his hood up, having left his Stetson back at the base and changed into furs similar to Ray's outfit. Even so, the wind flayed them like a razor-edged knife, and Ray kept his face mostly buried in Fraser's back, which actually felt kind of nice.

It went on and on, and after what felt like days but was probably only an hour or so, Ray felt the vehicle slow, then slide to a halt.

"We there?" he croaked, his throat dry.

"Thereabouts," Fraser said, peering ahead. "Diefenbaker thinks Tiguaak's brother is up ahead, but there's something badly wrong."

"He's hurt?" Ray straightened and stretched his back.

"It's not clear. Something traumatic's happened, but whether to Tiguaak or his brother—"

Dief reappeared from around the base of a rocky slope. He stopped when he saw them and yipped peremptorily.

"He's found them," Fraser said, dismounting as Ray clambered down and got his legs working again. Fraser had grabbed a small backpack from the snowmobile and was already striding off through the snow, so Ray hurried to stumble along in his footsteps.

The kid was lying on his back just around the curve of the cliff. There was blood on the snow and Ray could see a bullet entry wound above his left eye. He was obviously dead and Ray cursed mechanically as Fraser knelt and checked his pulse, then shook his head and closed the kid's eyes.

Ray was about to crouch down beside Fraser to get a better look at the wound when he was knocked sideways into the snow, the assailant crushingly heavy on his chest. And snarling.

[ ](https://www.mediafire.com/convkey/dea5/zrzod5sqy24p16bzg.jpg)

"Get it off me!" he spluttered, icy snow in his eyes and down the back of his neck. He could smell the snow too, overpoweringly strong and cold and clean, a weirdly granular sensation, like he was smelling individual snowflakes. The snow was half-mad with loss and rage and pain and... what? The snow was what? That made no sense at all, but as he stared into the wolf's eyes, he caught it again, fleetingly. Snow, and the cold fire of terrible loss and anger. Then it was gone and he got a padded arm up between his throat and the wolf pinning him, and he was shouting, and Fraser was saying something urgently, and Dief was growling.

The weight was gone in a second, and Ray struggled to push himself up, covered in powdered snow. The white wolf sat a pace away, staring at him, its breath misting the frigid air.

"What the fuck was _that_?" Ray gasped. "Why'd it—"

Fraser helped him sit up. "She's Tiguaak's sister. She's traumatized, not thinking straight, and you're not a wolfbrother so she mistrusted you."

"Sister? It's a girl wolf?"

Fraser looked like he really wanted to roll his eyes. "She's female, yes. I hadn't realized Tiguaak had a sister rather than a brother. It's not very common."

"Why's she smell like snow?" Ray asked, dusting himself off. "No, scratch that. I guess it's pretty obvious."

Fraser was looking at Ray oddly. "Her name is Qannik, Ray. It means snowflake. Well, it's not exactly a name as we use them—"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. It's that psychotic bond thing." Ray hoisted himself to his feet and brushed off as much snow as he could.

"Psychic bond, Ray," Fraser said reprovingly, then he shot Ray a speculative look.

Uncomfortable, Ray turned to the white wolf and bent down, offering his mittened hand for her to smell like you did with dogs. It maybe worked with wolves as well? "We square?" he asked her and she sniffed his hand delicately then stared up at him for a long moment. Then she whined and went over to the kid's body and lay down in the snow beside him, laying her big head on his motionless chest and sighing. Dief yipped unhappily and went to lie near her.

Ray straightened and knocked some last snow from his hair. He looked around. "Any sign of the perp?"

Fraser frowned. "It appears Mr. Vazaagiitsak has stolen the dog sled team to make his escape. He must have walked in here as there's no snowmobile that Dief can find. The sled tracks lead north-west, but it's hard to tell how long ago they were made. Qannik's too distressed to have any accurate time-sense at present, and it tends to be approximate in wolves at the best of times."

"What do we do, Frase? I mean, this bastard's a nasty piece of work and I wanna catch him, but I don't like the idea of leaving the kid's body lying out here."

"Qannik would guard him, but no, we can't leave him here. His family need to know, and we need a doctor to examine him and confirm that the gunshot was the principal cause of death."

Ray squinted in the direction the perp had gone. "You think Jimmy V will hide out with his family, with the tribe?"

Fraser shook his head. "I doubt it. He'll know that by murdering Tiguaak he's crossed a line with the local community, the Gwichʼin included. We'll have to track him."

* * *

The trip back to the Mountie base was long and cold—with the snowmobile now badly overloaded, they had to take it slow. The sky was darkening towards evening by the time they got back and were able to lift Tiguaak's body down and lay him on the concrete floor, wrapped in his furs. The stoves in the garage-office and living quarters had both gone out so it was freezing, and Fraser didn't re-light the one in the garage. Qannik had lain down beside Tiguaak again and wouldn't budge or come through into the warm. Ray didn't like to leave her but he was chilled and hungry, so he just brought her a bowl of water and one of kibble mashed with fat and hot water, which Fraser had made up for her and Dief.

They didn't talk much until they had coffee, big bowls of soup, and grilled cheese sandwiches inside them. "I called Sam Elanik and let him know about Tiguaak," Fraser said, scraping the last onion soup from his bowl. "He's sent someone to tell the family, but they live a fair distance away and won't be here until tomorrow."

"You gonna arrange a post-mortem? They do that up here?"

Fraser rocked a hand. "To some extent. There's a doctor at the medical clinic. Not a trained pathologist but they will be used to assisting the RCMP sometimes." He grimaced. "The family would doubtless prefer that his body be laid outside so his soul can roam free. They'll probably feel the Detachment's haunted now, and there'll have to be a ritual cleansing. Unfortunately, until we and the doctor have done the examination tomorrow and collected any evidence, I won't be able to release Constable Tiguaak's body to them."

"Tricky," Ray said, pouring himself more coffee and dropping in some Smarties. It was complicated in Chicago as well, with families from a bunch of different ethnic groups wanting it handled every which way. "You and Dief get any more from Qannik?"

"She didn't see much, it's mostly smells and impressions," Fraser said, resting his elbows on the table and steepling his fingers. "It appears that Jimmy Vazaagiitsak ambushed them from cover and shot Constable Tiguaak before he or Qannik could do anything. She tried to follow him but he held her off with his firearm—probably a rifle—until he'd taken the dog sled team and escaped." Fraser looked away and sighed. "She was traumatized and confused when Tiguaak died—instantly, when he was shot—otherwise she might have risked the gun and brought Vazaagiitsak down. But she didn't want to leave her brother." He tapped his fingers thoughtfully against his lips. "She's clear about Vazaagiitsak's scent, though, and very keen to track him."

Ray nodded. "That mostly how it works?" he asked. "Like, with smells and feelings?" He scratched his head. "I mean, with you and Dief—it's not like he uses words, right?"

Fraser smiled. "No, it's all non-verbal. Scents, memories and imagery, and his feelings, like impatience or amusement. It's quite different from words, but the meaning's remarkably clear. Bonded wolves share all that with each other through the packsense, but humans can only share it through their wolves."

"And Dief picks up the same stuff from you?" Ray asked.

Frase's smile turned wry. "Oh yes, although he does complain about how scent-deaf I am." On the rug, Dief snorted. Fraser turned back to Ray. "Diefenbaker's not really his name, you know—it's as I explained about Qannik."

Ray raised his eyebrows. "What is it, then?"

"Diefenbaker's his human name—it's for me to identify him verbally. His wolf name isn't words; it's a composite of smells, feelings, impressions. Very hard to convey, but it's something like woodsmoke, spruce sap, snow on the wind, and ruffled fur." Dief snorted again and Fraser smiled, "Yes, and with a trace of bakery mixed in these days, as well."

Ray grinned at Dief, whose tail thumped a couple of times.

Fraser looked down at the table, then glanced up. "Back there when Qannik, ah, met you, I got the impression... well, I wondered if you noticed anything... unusual."

Ray flicked a hand dismissively. "It was just snow I smelled. I mean, she knocked me down into it, stands to reason it got up my nose and all." But he caught a flash of the anger and pain that had been tangled up with that powerful sense of snow, and wondered. He looked at Fraser, who was eyeing him thoughtfully. "So, we going back out there tomorrow to pick up the trail?"

"Hopefully, yes. I'd like to have the medical examination and meeting with Tiguaak's family done by noon so we can head out. We'll need supplies in case we need to sleep out overnight, though. There's no telling how far he's traveled, now he has the sled."

Ray nodded. "Better get some sleep then, I guess."

It was harder than he'd expected to fall asleep with the bunkroom growing colder as the night progressed, and Fraser's distracting presence right there in the top bunk above him. He worried about Qannik as well, out in the unheated garage with Tiguaak's body. Fraser had told him wolves and sled dogs were fine in the cold and snow, adapted for it with their thick coats, but he didn't like to think of her all alone. He woke in the small hours and dressed—not that either of them had really undressed, just taken off their jackets and boots—and took his sleeping bag and a blanket to the garage, shivering through the brief outdoor traverse between the buildings.

Qannik whined softly when he came in and got up to meet him, pushing her head into his hand when he stroked her. They settled down by Tiguaak again, and it was colder than a witch's tit, for sure, but bundled in his bag and with Qannik curled beside him, Ray warmed up pretty fast, and it was daylight before he blinked awake when Fraser came in with Qannik's breakfast.

"Ah, Ray," Fraser said, seeming unsurprised. "There's pancakes and bacon next door."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be right there," Ray said, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He caught a trace of amusement from Qannik, but that was probably the curl of her lip, even if it did come with the feel of snowflakes melting on his tongue. He shrugged it off and went to get breakfast.

* * *

They started back to Troll Cliff, as Ray had started calling it, just after lunch, this time with two packs as well. Another slow trip with the snowmobile heavily laden, but at least it cut down on the juddering. Dief and Qannik ran on ahead and were waiting, tongues lolling, when they rounded the cliff and found the bloodstained snow again.

The wolves waited while Ray and Fraser had some coffee from a thermos and drank water. Fraser photographed the crime scene with a small camera he must have found at the Mountie base. Ray guessed that Dief, and through him, Qannik, were impatient at the delay and he found himself getting antsy as well, pacing about restlessly. He figured Qannik didn't intend the perp to have any sort of trial, not if she got to him first, and a similar fierceness rose up in him as well.

As they remounted the snowmobile, Qannik stood over the place where Tiguaak had died, and howled. A beat later, Dief raised his head and joined her, the eerie sounds echoing off the cliff and sending a shiver down the back of Ray's neck. Then the two wolves trotted off north-west along the sled tracks and Fraser started the snowmobile, following after.

It was good they had Dief and Qannik with them as there were places where the trail was hard to see, over smooth-packed needles where the snow had receded under thicker stands of trees, or at the foot of a hillside where there'd been a small avalanche overnight, scattering jumbled snow, branches and rocks in a wide swathe. They had to take a detour around that and from then on Ray cast a nervous eye up at any hillsides looming over them.

The day lengthened, although it was still fully light with no sign of evening, and it got colder as the trail led up to higher ground, beside a fast-flowing, ice-choked river.

"That was practically an iceberg!" Ray yelled after one especially big chunk swept past them in the murky gray-green water.

Fraser brought the snowmobile to a stop and pulled out the map. "I think that's exactly what it was," he agreed, pointing at a mess of blue lines. "There's a glacier up ahead which is calving blocks of ice."

Ray frowned. "A glacier? There gonna be any of those cravats to fall into?"

"Cr... oh, crevasses. Yes, very likely, up on top of it, but I'm hoping we won't need to track him that far. He'd find it just as dangerous to traverse as we would." Fraser narrowed his eyes, peering north. "We need to stay alert, Ray. The valley's narrowing fast and if his hideout's up there we could chance upon him very soon. Cornered animals are especially dangerous."

"And that goes triple for perps," Ray muttered grimly. Fraser had Tiguaak's spare rifle from the Mountie base, but Ray couldn't carry here in Canada, and Dief and Qannik had run on ahead. He tried not to worry, reminding himself that Fraser would have warned Dief through their bond, and that Qannik would pick it up from Dief.

They crested a rise and Fraser slowed and stopped where a stand of trees formed a barrier to the snowmobile, turning off the ignition. The resulting silence seemed to rebound off the valley's snow-clad walls. Then a chorus of yipping started up nearby.

"They found him!" Ray took off on foot, Fraser following. "She ain't hurt, is she?" he gasped at Fraser as they ran through the snow.

"Neither of them is injured," Fraser panted. "They found the dog team, and there's a cave."

The dogs were tethered under the trees. They seemed real glad to see someone other than Jimmy V, so they probably hadn't been fed. Fraser worked some of his voodoo on them and got them quiet and settled down, then he and Ray crept to the edge of the tree line.

The cave was just a dark crack in the rockface, with Dief and Qannik guarding it from behind a rockfall nearby. Ray and Fraser crouched down beside them, and Fraser shouted: "Mr. Vazaagiitsak, this is Constable Fraser of the RCMP. I have reason to believe you are involved in two suspicious deaths and require you to accompany me to Aklavik for questioning. If you do not c—"

A shot ricocheted off the rocks and Fraser ducked down. "We appear to be at something of an impasse," he said.

"Yeah, he could hold us off for ages," Ray muttered. "Maybe if I circle around and you talk at him some more to draw him out a bit?"

Fraser shook his head. "I should circle around. I can move more quietly in this terrain."

Ray shrugged. "Maybe, but he knows your voice, now. He's gonna get suspicious if I start chatting him up instead."

Reluctantly, Fraser agreed, and Ray crept back and into the trees. He'd gotten halfway around to the other side of the cave when he found Qannik had followed him, slinking silently through the snow-covered underbrush. He stopped and frowned at her. "Stay back and don't let him see you, right?" She tilted her head at him, giving off strongly sardonic eye-roll vibes. "Hoo boy, don't need no sidekick powers to understand _that_ ," Ray muttered, and they pressed on.

By the time they crawled up behind the rocks on the other side of the cave, Fraser was yelling about how it'd be expedient for the perp to come quietly, and might indeed be a point in his favor with the court. Waste of time—bad guys never bought that line. Still, old Jimmy was getting kind of worked up with Fraser yammering on, just like Ray'd hoped, and from time to time he took potshots at the rocks shielding Fraser and Dief.

"C'mon, c'mon," Ray whispered real quiet-like, 'cause they were a lot closer to the cave mouth here. "Come on out just a bit more, ya punk."

And the guy did, edging out just far enough that Ray could see his back as he tried for a better angle on Fraser's hideout. Ray slid on his glasses and reached for his piece. Shit. He'd clean forgotten he wasn't carrying.

He scrabbled frantically around, his hand closing on a tennis ball-sized rock. As he straightened, a white streak shot past him, straight for the perp. Jimmy turned a lot faster than Ray would have thought possible and Ray was screaming at Qannik to get the fuck outta there, to duck, to roll, but all he got back was implacable rage with the man who'd killed her brother.

Ray's arm went back and it was years since he'd played baseball, it'd never really been his game, but he'd always been a crack shot with his glasses on. His rock hit the perp's chest because you always went for center mass. Rocks were different from bullets though, and it didn't do much except jolt him. Fraser was yelling and Dief was barking and the guy's rifle fired. Qannik yelped and fell to one side and Ray screamed and fell to his hands and knees in the snow because _fuck_ that hurt.

He was dimly aware of the perp getting away, firing back behind him at Dief to hold him off, and then a desperate-looking Fraser was trying to pull up his parka. "Are you injured, Ray?"

"Hurts," Ray gritted, clutching his left side where the pain twisted like fire. "Qannik," he gasped, trying to crawl through the snow to her. Fraser helped him stumble over to where Dief was standing over Qannik, whining unhappily.

"Ah, I see," Fraser said, answering Dief, maybe, or Ray, or all of them.

There was blood on the white fur and on the snow. "Oh jeez, no," Ray moaned. Qannik whimpered and Ray lay down with her and pressed his face into the fur of her neck.

Fraser was being real calm and practical, and gradually Ray realized it was just a graze, painful but not dangerous. His face was still mashed into her fur but he could see it, a shallow laceration along her ribs, and she was calmer now as well, as Fraser and Dief flooded her and Ray with reassurance.

It took Ray a while to get that no one was talking. Not out loud, anyway. He gritted his teeth along with Qannik when Fraser cleaned the wound with snow then got one of his stinky salves out of a pocket and smeared it on. Qannik wasn't too keen on that, but Ray sent her vibes about how the stuff worked like a charm even though it smelled real bad, and she stopped whining.

"Come on, Ray, we'd better search the cave," Fraser said after a while, so Ray and Qannik disentangled themselves and got up, wincing, with Dief yipping encouragement, and they went to check it out.

The adrenaline was wearing off and Ray was feeling kind of shaky, or maybe that was Qannik, he wasn't sure. Fraser took his arm and made him sit on a barrel against the wall of the cave, and Qannik hunkered down next to him. He could feel how much she wanted to lick the wound, but the salve smelled too bad. "Nope, leave it be," he told her.

"Are you quite all right, Ray?" Fraser asked, frowning with worry.

"Yeah, sure. It's Qannik got shot, not me," Ray reminded him.

"Yes, and in the middle of you both bonding," Fraser said, furrowing his brows. "That's very far from ideal, Ray, and not a little traumatic."

"Huh, is that what this is?" Ray rested a hand in Qannik's fur and felt the connection hum between them. She turned and looked up at him, and he got it again, that powerful granular sense of snow, the flakes melting on his tongue, snow in the wind, and in his fur. Her fur. "Yeah, hello to you, too, Snowflake," he said. "I'm Ray." He sensed her amusement, even though the bullet graze was still troubling her. _Sugar and coffee scent and kind hands_ , she sent back. "Is that me?" Ray grinned. "I think that's me." Qannik whuffed softly and sent it again. _Sugar-coffee-kind hands_.

Ray grinned up at Fraser. "Hey, I gotta smell-name."

Fraser smiled. "Yes, a scent-name, they're called. But we can talk about that later. For now, we need to decide what to do about Jimmy Vazaagiitsak." Fraser looked towards the mouth of the cave. "He can't have gone far; I think this valley's a cul-de-sac." He turned back to Ray. "Will you be all right here if I search the rest of the cave?"

"Sure," Ray said. "Go for it."

Fraser was back before too long. "He's got supplies here, and a fire pit. And I found the artifact." He held up a leather-wrapped object about six inches long. He then turned and hid the bundle under a rock just outside the cave.

"What?" Ray said, puzzled. "Two people died for that thing and you're throwing it away?"

Fraser straightened. "We'll retrieve it, but it's too precious to risk carrying. We haven't caught Jimmy Vazaagiitsak yet."

Qannik let him know through the bond that she was ready to hunt down the killer. Ray looked down at her. "You sure you're up to it?" Fierce determination, and a hated scent that must be the perp's. "Well, okay," Ray agreed. He wanted to get the bastard, too.

The four of them tracked him further along the base of the cliff, to where the glacier itself stood. It towered up the sides of the valley which was now mostly filled with the river into which slabs of ice intermittently fell. There was no sign of their quarry but Ray could see the scent-trail through Qannik and he knew Fraser saw the same through Dief. Huh, no wonder Fraser had that spooky edge, even in the city.

The trail led into a dark cavern in the ice, not far from the river's edge. Ray peered in, seeing that it was partly the base of one of those crevasse things, a fissure in the glacier exposed as the ice melted and crumbled away.

Fraser was making the same assessment. "A result of global warming, I fear, Ray," he said grimly. "Glaciers are shrinking worldwide, to an alarming degree."

Ray was more worried about the here and now. "We got the same problem, Frase. The perp's in a cave with a gun, and we're outside. Is it safe to go in there?" He waved a hand at the ice. "I mean, apart from old Jimmy."

"It's likely stable in the short term, Ray," Fraser said, "although with the spring thaw continuing, that won't hold for very long. I'll take point, as I have the firearm."

The bond with Qannik filled with anger and impatience. Ray knelt down. "Look, Snowflake," he said, eye to eye with her. "I know you wanna rip the bastard's throat out, but Fraser's the boss, right? He's leader of the pack up here and we gotta do what he says." Frustration wafted back, but also grudging acceptance.

They slipped into the ice cave, Fraser in the lead with Dief, then Ray and Qannik. He'd thought it'd be dark, but the opening far above and the glacier's shrinkage allowed a cool underwater light to filter through the walls and ceiling and light their way over the rough rock and gravel underfoot. It was like being in the innards of a huge animal made of glowing blue-green glass.

[ ](https://www.mediafire.com/convkey/83e7/d0zu79ooa45vmplzg.jpg)

After a few minutes, Fraser paused and held up a hand, a warning filtering through from Dief and Qannik. Around the next buttress, a wide cavern in the ice opened up, edged by shadowy crevices and hollows. Jimmy's trail was clear to Ray though, through the senses of the wolves.

"I don't like it, Frase," Ray whispered. "Why'd he risk leading us here? He must know it's a dead end. Plus, it smells weird."

He'd only just noticed the strange, musky smell, but Dief and Qannik had been restless and fretful for a while so he guessed it was worse for them. "What _is_ that stink?"

"Impossible," muttered Fraser. "It can't be..." Ray got it too, now, from some ancient, instinctive part of the wolves' brains, through the packsense. The smell of an enemy older than the man they were chasing. Older than this part of the glacier.

"Global warming," Fraser was muttering, "and they were said to hibernate, so it's possible their metabolisms are sufficiently different to allow them to—"

"Frase," Ray said urgently. "Are you saying there's a dead _troll_ in here? A thawed-out troll carcass that got stuck in the glacier ages ago?" Dief and Qannik were snarling now, and Fraser had the rifle's safety off. A scream echoed through the cave, and a crunching noise.

"Not so much a _dead_ troll, no, Ray," Fraser said tightly.

Then Jimmy Vazaagiitsak was running full-on at them, yelling and firing wildly, but he wasn't really aiming at them 'cause it was hard to aim accurately when one of your arms ended in a bloody stump.

The thing plucked Jimmy up in a huge, meaty hand and dashed him against the wall. It roared, and Ray got a confused impression of wet grayish skin hanging in slab-like folds and a mouth full of blackened teeth. Fraser pulled Ray back behind an ice buttress into a narrower part of the cave and ordered the wolves to hold off and not attack it. They complied reluctantly, snarling.

"We got to get outta here, Frase," Ray hissed urgently. "We get a head start; it maybe couldn't catch us. Don't look like it's built for speed."

"Nor does an enraged bull walrus," Fraser muttered. Then the lunatic stood and called out something in what Ray figured was Inuit. He yelled it again, and there was a silence in which water dripped and Ray's breath was harsh in his ears.

A creaking, hesitant grumble of sound emerged from the troll. "Ah, it remembers Inuit, good," Fraser murmured, pleased. Ray stared at him. The wolves were no help in figuring out what the fuck was going on, both of them locked in a cycle of _enemykilldangerenemykill_.

"Inuit?" Ray asked, incredulous.

"An ancient version, but there's enough in common with modern Uummarmiut," Fraser whispered. "It's a very old language, Ray." He called out something that sounded like a question.

Disbelieving, Ray listened to the halting exchange. The troll's speech sounded like rocks grinding together, and Fraser became grave and looked like he was arguing. Finally, he crouched down by Ray again, shaking his head. "She's the last of her race, and she wants to die." He grimaced. "She wants me to kill her."

"Is that even possible?" Ray asked, wide-eyed. "Bein' a gazillion years old ain't killed it. Bein' froze solid ain't killed it."

Fraser shot him a wry look. "She's just a troll, Ray, not a vampire."

"Oh man, are those things real as _well_?"

"Indeed no, Ray. They were always fantasy. Although vampire bats and other hemophage species most certainly exist." He bit his lip, then exhaled. "I can see no other reasonable solution. She can't be allowed to roam free; that would cause significant danger for the local inhabitants."

"Uh, _yeah_ ," Ray said. "Ya think?" He peered over the ice at the troll again. "But how? It'd be like shooting a mountain!"

"Aiming for the eye should do it. She has a brain, Ray, not dissimilar to your own."

"Me and that thing got nothing in common," Ray said flatly.

"Sadly, that belief is why her kind are now extinct, or nearly so," Fraser said, rising and gesturing Ray up as well. "I need you to take Dief and Qannik and retrace our steps. Get right out of the cave."

Dief whined and Qannik looked from Fraser to Ray, pushing a wave of worry at him.

"Hold up. Why? And what'll you be doing?"

"I can't shoot her in cold blood, Ray," Fraser said calmly, like that made some sort of sense. He started saying something to the troll again, and it snarled and took a pace forward. Ray grabbed his arm.

"So, what? You're gonna stay here and _fight_ it? All by yourself? I don't think so!"

Fraser frowned. "There's no sense in all of us being in danger, Ray. I'll—"

Growling furiously, Dief and Qannik leaped forward, menacing the troll which roared again, swiping at them with a huge gray arm as they danced away. Ray was pissed as hell, but also relieved they'd forced the issue. "Get the fuck outta there!" he shouted, but all he was getting back was that _killenemykill_ shit again.

Fraser raised his rifle and put two shots neatly into one of the huge eyes, calling the wolves back sharply. The troll swayed, staggered, and then toppled like a badly constructed building, hitting the rocky ground with a series of earthshattering thumps.

"Ah, Fraser said. "That may be a problem."

Ray was already dragging him away, the wolves bounding ahead as they ran while the cavern collapsed behind them, burying the troll for a second, final time. Around them, buttresses of ice were cracking as the tremors rocked the glacier, sheets of ice breaking off and smashing down on either side. A chunk hit Ray's shoulder, knocking him off balance, but Fraser grabbed his parka and hauled him along. The entrance to the cave loomed brightly and they stumbled out, blinking.

"Keep goin'," Ray yelled, pushing Fraser on ahead as they sprinted for the trees. Once they were at a safe distance they turned to look back just as that whole part of the glacier collapsed, something like an avalanche exploding out. Then it was over, the ice groaning and quieting as it settled, the ground no longer shaking.

"Well, we ain't gonna be taking Jimmy's body back to his people," Ray said, collapsed on his back on the snowy ground while he got his breath back. Dief and Qannik were sniffing each other, but Ray could feel through the bond that neither of them was hurt.

"No, Ray," Fraser said, sitting tiredly against a tree. "I'll have to explain the circumstances to them."

Ray pushed himself up on his good elbow. The other arm throbbed, but it didn't feel broken. "About the troll as well?"

Fraser sighed. "I think not. She deserves to rest peacefully, and the last thing the community here needs is hordes of media people and anthropologists descending on them."

Ray snorted. "That's if they believed you." He could just see the shitfest with the Ice Queen and most likely the Feds putting their oar in. "Welsh'd have a cow."

They grinned tiredly at each other. "Indeed, Ray. Is your arm injured?"

"Nah, just a bruise." Qannik settled beside Ray's legs and leaned heavily on him, and Dief flopped down near Fraser.

"We should probably make our way back to the base," Fraser said after a while. "I'll drive the dog sled if you can take the snowmobile."

"Yeah, just gimme a second to catch my breath," Ray said, lying back down.

"Right you are, Ray."

* * *

There was a ceremony, of course, when Fraser handed the artifact over to Sam Elanik and the other Inuvialuit elders. Ray might've spaced out a bit during it, but his arm still hurt, and Qannik's side was itching so he had to keep chivvying her through the bond not to scratch it.

When the singing was done and they'd eaten a few bits of dried caribou and pretended to drink some sort of herb tea that tasted like boiled twigs, Sam Elanik pulled Ray and Fraser aside while the others chatted and admired the carving. Ray figured the Field Museum weren't likely to get their mitts on it again. 

"You'd be very welcome to stay, Constable Fraser and Detective Vecchio, and of course we need the Detachment staffed, with poor Tiguaak in the spirit world now."

Fraser rubbed his eyebrow and smiled. "We're very flattered by your offer, Mr. Elanik, but I've had some... difficulties with the RCMP administration, and I'm not sure they'd give me the posting." He gestured at Ray. "And Ray is American of course."

Sam Elanik waved that away. "He's a wolfbrother. They'd make him a citizen before the spring melt ends if he wanted it. And this is Qannik's home, you know."

Fraser tilted his head. "Well, that's true enough, but everything's happened rather suddenly I'm afraid. I think we need a little time."

Sam patted his arm. "Of course, of course. Just let me know if you ever need help with the RCMP and the community here will grease the sled runners, as they say."

Fraser thanked him again and they managed to extract themselves and escape back to the Mountie base, where the stove was still warm. Ray added some wood to the embers and Dief and Qannik flopped down on the rug in front of it.

"Thanks, Fraser," Ray said, from the couch where he was stretched out with his eyes shut, yawning. "I mean, it's nice enough here, but I don't know that I'm ready to move in full time, y'know?"

"Quite understandable, Ray," Fraser said, bringing two mugs of tea over and putting them on the packing case table. "I put Smarties in yours, Ray," he said.

"Cool." Smarties improved everything. He swung his feet around so Fraser could sit down. "I mean, maybe sometime in the future we could come up here again and go on an Arctic adventure, or a quest. Maybe we could settle down here after that."

"A quest?" Fraser sipped his tea and smiled. "I'm sure we could find something to search for."

"How long you think you'll need here to finish up the paperwork on Tiguaak and Jimmy V?"

"I should be done with it tomorrow. We can catch the Yellowknife plane the day after."

"Okay." Ray shut his eyes again. "Be good for Qannik to have some quiet time to heal up." He hoped she was okay about coming to Chicago with him. She caught his anxiety and sent images of them running through grass, walking along the street of a town, riding in a car together. Always side by side. _Yeah, me too,_ he sent back. When he opened his eyes, Fraser was watching him with a fond, wistful look on his face.

* * *

Welsh was happy they hadn't trashed the snowmobile and had closed the case, and, as expected, he didn't give two hoots that the Field Museum was missing an artifact. There was some yelling about Ray getting himself bonded to a wolf just like Fraser, but Dief had never caused trouble apart from filching the odd muffin, and no one wanted to upset the K-9 boys by discriminating against four-footed friends. All in all, they settled back into Chicago pretty smoothly.

There was a little awkwardness about living arrangements, but Ray wasn't going to separate Qannik from Dief when she was also getting used to the city and missing the snowy north, so he badgered Fraser until he and Dief moved into Ray's apartment. Ray cleared out the spare room, but Fraser preferred sleeping on a bedroll on the floor, which was weird, but Ray could deal. He got a bigger rug for the wolves to lie on and told Dief not to corrupt Qannik with donut stealing or bakery trashcan diving. Yeah, right.

Qannik was the darling of the 2-7, but Frannie was goddamn impossible. The fussing was okay, and only Qannik's due, but Frannie was way too interested in Ray being a wolfbrother. He should've known, what with all those trashy romances she read.

"So now Dief's gotta girlfriend," Frannie said, perching herself on his desk one day when Ray was trying to catch up with his paperwork before Welsh had another meltdown, "What's that mean for you and Fraser, huh?"

Ray had been carefully trying not to think about exactly that, so he just glared at her. "Qannik's not Dief's girlfriend. She's her own wolf."

Qannik yipped approval, but she still pushed her head into Frannie's hand for more pats.

"Yeah," Frannie persisted, ignoring his discomfort, "but she's gonna get the hots sooner or later, right?"

"She might not go into heat," Ray said defensively. "And what's to say she's gonna pick Dief if she does?"

Frannie screwed up her face. "Ew, Raymond. You'd rather get romantic with some other dude when you could have Fraser?"

Which, point. Ray swallowed hard—he hadn't thought of that. What if Qannik picked Turnbull's wolf, Buckingham, as a mate? It didn't bear thinking about. Qannik whined and sent him reassuringly sardonic vibes, and yeah, okay, she didn't much like Buckingham and had already snarled and nipped at him when he got overenthusiastic with the butt-sniffing.

Anyway, Fraser said she-wolves only went into heat once a year, in December, and that was months away.

"Quit distracting me with hypertheatrical questions. I gotta get this paperwork done," he said crossly.

Frannie rolled her eyes. "Whatever, but you better get your head outta your ass about it. It ain't that long ago they still had gangbangs when ladywolves got the hots."

"For Christ's sake," Ray said desperately and went to hide in the store cupboard with Qannik. She sent him reassuring vibes, but they were short on detail about what was actually going to happen.

The more he fretted, the closer December seemed to be. It didn't help that they had one crazy case after another, so what with half-drowning on a freighter out on the Great Lakes, that baseball weirdness, and having to pull off a motorcycle rescue after Fraser and his buddy got kidnapped by a bad guy, it was October already, and well into fall.

There wasn't anyone Ray could talk to about it, either. Stella was keeping him at arm's length, and after her, there were only his workmates. Scratch Huey and Dewey, because he didn't trust them with a paperclip, let alone his sex life. Elaine was sensible but she thought this wolfbrother stuff was horseshit, and Frannie was way too interested, and a blabbermouth.

That only left Qannik, who didn't even think about it—to her, it was all instinctive, and natural as breathing. Besides, she got to rule the roost and boss any males around, which she was looking forward to. She just sent him cheerfully vague _happyfuntimes_ vibes which was no help at all.

And then there was Fraser. The one person he usually talked to. The one person he couldn't talk to. Not about this. Not yet.

Ray hadn't gotten a lot of action since he broke up with Stell. Okay, okay, so he hadn't gotten any. Work was crazy busy, and keeping up with Fraser's antics was a full-time job in itself so he was on a break from all that stuff, right? Being Fraser's partner was all the relationship he could handle, anyway... and that was the problem right there.

Truth be told, he didn't _want_ anyone else except Fraser. If Qannik picked Dief to mate with come December, it wasn't gonna be a hardship for Ray. But he had no idea if Fraser felt the same, and it seemed like a real bad idea just to wait and see, and then maybe go from zero to sixty with Fraser, when Qannik went into heat.

He found a couple of books about it in the library, but he couldn't bring them home, 'cause then Fraser'd see, and he wasn't ready for The Talk. The books kind of danced around it with complicated science-type explanations, but it was pretty clear that the brothers bonded to two mating wolves didn't get any damn say in the matter. That they didn't _want_ any say in it with the bond chock full with wolf instincts and hormones and, yeah, _happyfuntimes._ An 'involuntary mating frenzy' one book called it, after which Ray had to go get himself a beer or three.

Finally, he figured the best plan was to get in first. It was scary as hell, but if he made a move on Fraser before the pheromones hit the fan then at least they could have a warm-up, like running in a new car. At least he could see if this crush he had was mutual, and if they hit it off and got to the happyfuntimes stage all by themselves, well, then the mating would just be more of the same, not some kind of goddamn frenzy.

Provided Qannik chose Dief as her mate. But nothing else bore thinking about, so he blocked it out and focused on wooing Fraser.

Trouble was, by the time he got his shit together he'd left his run kind of late, and work was no help at all, with a series of weird-ass villains-of-the-week. Then Fraser got slightly beaten up, and soon after, Ray copped a knife wound to the thigh. It wasn't deep but it stung like a bastard and pretty much killed the mood. Plus, Fraser, having bounced back from his beating, fussed over him like a mother hen. No way was Fraser gonna let him do anything strenuous like foreplay.

Ray tried some stealth dating, bringing home flowers. "Ah, _alstroemeria_ , a native of South America I think you'll find, Ray. Unfortunately, their cultivation for sale often involves heated greenhouses, pesticides, and exploitation of indigenous labor, not to mention the damage to local ecosystems. Still, they're lovely colors."

[ ](https://www.mediafire.com/convkey/dbea/at7lgioz3zx5pb9zg.jpg)

Next, he tried making Fraser dinner, but he was no Ray Vecchio and his cheese soufflé was flat as a pancake. "An excellent omelet, Ray, and the salad's very nutritious." Fraser didn't drink much so he couldn't ply him with wine and get him tipsy, and Ray was more of a beer guy.

He even tried getting Fraser to watch a romantic movie. Looking back, _Dances With Wolves_ was most likely the wrong choice, but how was Ray to know it was about Kevin Costner going native and getting beat up by just about everyone? The dancing bit had sounded romantic, and at least it had wolves. Well, one wolf. Plus it pushed all Fraser's buttons and he spent most of it going on about Costner having a 'white savior' complex, how the accents were all wrong, and how the Pawnees weren't the bad guys and had actually been victims of the Sioux.

By now, it was mid-November and time was running out. Goddamnit. They were gonna have to have The Talk after all.

Ray set it up with Dief and Qannik in advance, getting them to go out for the evening with a promise of donuts which he'd left with Turnbull over at the consulate. They thought this talking stuff was boring, anyway, and didn't see what all the fuss was about. Huey and Dewey were on call, so the precinct was covered, and Ray brought home Chinese take-out—sticky pork and kung po chicken, which were Fraser's favorites.

"That was delicious, Ray," Fraser said, laying down his chopsticks with a happy sigh. "Is it a special occasion?"

"Yeah, in a way," Ray said, feeling a little sick and wishing he hadn't had that last egg roll. "I mean, no it ain't, not really, but I wanted to butter you up so's to..." he sat forward and scrubbed his hands through his hair in frustration. "Ah, hell, I'm doin' this all wrong."

Fraser's brow was creased in puzzlement. "I'm sure we can sort it out, Ray, if we just talk about it."

"Yeah, well, that's the point, like. We gotta talk, and I been putting it off. This ain't easy, Fraser."

"No, I can see that, Ray," Fraser said sympathetically. "Perhaps if you take a leaf out of Lewis Carroll's book. 'Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end. Then stop'."

"Easy for him to say," Ray muttered, but there was no other way; he had to spit it out. "It's this mating thing, with Qannik. I mean, let's face it, Frase, there ain't a lot of choice around here, wolf-wise. There's Dief, then there's Buckingham, and he's way too much like Turnbull. She's got better taste than that." He waved his hands a little desperately. "I mean, I guess there might be wolves at the zoo, but they ain't the proper sort, right? They're just wild. Well, cooped up, but wild."

"Yes indeed, Ray. Qannik needs to breed with a psychic wolf, not one of their wild brethren. The facility's been bred into her line for generations. For a Millennium, or longer."

"Yeah," Ray said, pointing at Fraser emphatically. "So, you see what I'm getting at."

Fraser nodded gravely. "You're worried about what may happen when Qannik goes into heat, which could realistically happen any time across the next four weeks."

Ray sat up. "I thought I had until December!"

Fraser frowned. "Well, yes, it's usually in December, but mating cycles aren't like clockwork and it depends on the severity of the weather, the health of the wolf, a number of things."

"She's plenty healthy," Ray protested, bristling on Qannik's behalf.

Fraser raised his hands placatingly. "I never said she wasn't, Ray. I'm sure she's fit as a fiddle." He set his hands on his knees. "I can see that you're concerned about the lack of options, though, and rightly so, as Dief and I... well, perhaps familiarity breeds contempt, as they say." He was looking down and trying to be all stoic-like, but Ray could see he was unhappy. Oh jeez, this was going all wrong. Before he could set him straight, Fraser looked up. "But there's a solution you won't be aware of, Ray. The RCMP places a very high value on female wolves capable of bonding, and they have special mating quarters in the larger towns and cities, with a wide choice of suitable mates. Toronto's a manageable drive from here, or Sudbury's another option—"

"Jesus Christ, Fraser, I don't wanna take Qannik to a goddamn mating center!" Ray almost shouted. "What, and end up gettin' screwed by some Mountie I don't even know? Or worse, a bunch of them, if she's picky and wants to play the field?"

He leaped up and paced to and fro, then turned and glared at Fraser. "'cause that's what's gonna happen, right? I gotta sister wolf so I'm the one who'll get fucked."

Fraser winced at his coarse turn of phrase. "Well, yes, but while I understand your misgivings, Ray, it can be a beautiful experience, or so I've been told. Dief and I have never... Well, he's never been chosen, for all his virtues. Possibly as he's half dog, and then there's the deafness. Female wolves can be ruthlessly pragmatic, and they do usually have a choice of mates." He gestured helplessly. "Then there's living down here, and even in Canada, I was in a very isolated post. So, you see..." He seemed to realize that Ray was looking at him wide-eyed. "But really, Ray, I believe it can be very fulfilling, and I'm sure precautions can be taken against... I mean, with lubrication, and..."

"Oh jeez, just _shut up_ , Frase," Ray moaned, and Fraser, cheeks pink with embarrassment, nodded.

"Shutting up, Ray."

Ray slumped down into an armchair, face in his hands. "Tell me you've had sex before, Frase." He looked up. "I mean, Dief has, right? Like with that poodle? I mean, not an actual wolfbrother-type mating, but he gets his end away sometimes?"

Fraser looked mutinous, then the fight seemed to go out of him. "Yes, of course he does, and I've... there was a friend back in Inuvik, and a fellow cadet at the Training Depot. And then... but you know about her, I'm sure. You'll have seen the files."

Victoria. "Hell, Frase, I'm sorry to've brought that up. I shouldn't... I mean, it's none of my damn business what you—"

Fraser had regained his composure, but he looked weary. "No, no, Ray, I can see why you'd want to... well, if you don't plan on attending a mating center and Qannik does choose..." He trailed off, then seemed to be forcing himself to rally. "I do realize that it wouldn't be the ideal option for either you or Qannik, but I can assure you, Ray, that I'd do my very best to take care of you and make it as rewarding an experience as it could be, under the circumstances."

Ray looked across at Fraser, who was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. "Man, I am the _pits_ with this communication schtick. I done this all wrong. Fraser, I _want_ Qannik to choose Dief. I _want_ to mate with you." He blew out a breath as Fraser looked up, startled. "I've had a crush on you for ages, Frase. Almost since that first day you turned up and measured my nose, but for a while, I was still messed up about Stella. I been over her for ages now, but these feelings about you? They ain't goin' away. That's why I had to have this talk. I want to mate with you whether or not Dief and Qannik get it on. I don't care who Qannik chooses. I choose _you_." 

Fraser went to speak, but Ray pressed on. He had to finish, now he'd finally said it. "And I understand, Frase, if you don't feel the same way. Hell, I know I'm no catch. I never been with anyone but Stella, and I get words mixed up, and I can't shoot straight without my glasses, but—"

Fraser was on his feet and across the room, hauling Ray up out of the chair. Ray steeled himself for a punch, but Fraser just said, "Oh, _Ray_ ," and pulled him close, kissing him gently, then not so gently, especially after Ray got his head out of his ass and started kissing back. They kissed until they were breathless, then just held on tight, Ray grinning into Fraser's shoulder like a loon and pounding his back a little. He wanted to kiss Fraser some more, but for now, holding him close and smelling Fraser's familiar, loved smell was enough. It was greatness.

Finally, Fraser pulled back a little. He looked happy, and Ray realized he'd never seen Fraser like that before. Amused, sure, even fond, sometimes, but never this uncomplicated joy. He figured he probably looked about the same.

"So, okay," Ray said. "I wanna do a lot more of that real soon, and I don't wanna rush things, but we're on a clock here, and we both need a whole lot more experience before, y'know, M-Day."

"M-Day?" Fraser asked, grinning.

"Mating Day, you know, like we been talking about," Ray explained. "I'm gonna make sure Qannik chooses Dief. Hell, we can even go off on a hiking trip so she ain't got no other choice. But whatever, we're gonna need to practice, right? Before the big day."

"Mmm, yes indeed. Very practical of you, Ray," Fraser said. His hand was in Ray's hair and Ray pushed into it, panting a little as Fraser's leg slid between his. Oh man, that felt good. "But there's just one thing, Ray, that you may not be aware of."

"Huh?" Ray said hazily, his hands sliding down to grip Fraser's ass and pull him close.

Fraser's breath was labored too, and he was eyeing Ray's mouth hungrily. "When female wolves go into heat—" He inhaled sharply. "Oh, _Ray, yes._ " He licked his lips and tried to continue. "When they..." Fraser shut his eyes and moaned as Ray rode his thigh and ground against him. "It, it doesn't just last for a day, Ray. It lasts a _week_."

Ray growled and pulled Fraser in to kiss him some more. A whole week? Okay, hiking was out. They were gonna need a bed.

\- the end -

[ ](https://www.mediafire.com/convkey/0986/4gyvr6hhhvbhjsczg.jpg)


End file.
